


A Meeting of Minds

by SleepDeprivedFemale



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Can an eldritch god get existential dread from meeting another eldritch god?, Gen, Lovecraftian, Pre-Canon, read more to find out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 20:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20570474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepDeprivedFemale/pseuds/SleepDeprivedFemale
Summary: One would think that the meeting of two eldritch deities, primordial beings originating from the birth of time itself, would be filled with poise, understanding, and the occasional threat.Instead, as Eibon was currently finding out, it mostly involved poking and circling each other like wild beasts.





	A Meeting of Minds

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to littleocean for the inspiration

One would think that the meeting of two eldritch deities, primordial beings originating from the birth of time itself, would be filled with poise, understanding, and the occasional threat.

Instead, as Eibon was currently finding out, it mostly involved poking and circling each other like wild beasts.

Eibon was traversing the cosmos as anyone was wont to do, their mind preoccupied with choosing where to head to next. There were rumors of interesting phenomena occurring on the event horizon of a supermassive black hole, the heart of a galaxy at the ever-expanding seams of spacetime, -though gladly the one at the center of the universe had not displayed any anomalies- and Eibon had wanted to investigate, though there was also the matter of a planet he had travelled to not long ago and made contact with one of the creatures there and Eibon wanted to check up on them. In the end, Eibon had decided to make a quick detour to the small blue planet before heading out to the reaches of the Universe.

Eibon had expected his visit to be of little use; a formality. Perhaps they would once again encounter the human that had dared challenge him for their power; most likely they would pointlessly roam across the planets deep blue oceans, lush green forests and jungles, red deserts and barren arctic expanses, letting their mind clear for the long journey ahead. The native fauna and flora was of rudimentary intelligence, with very few and not so impressive exceptions. Humans, they called themselves, or would call themselves across their crude languages, a vague concept articulated with imprecise means.

The last thing Eibon expected was to come across another being like them, indicated by the unease that surged through their being and a behemoth of a soul coming into sight across the horizon.

Curiosity overtaken any dread -Eibon's encounters with the class of beings they classified themselves in, Great Old Ones, were far and few and neutral at best- Eibon approached the being, being sure to stay a generous distance outside of their soul. It would be rude to invade their personal space, after all.

It took Eibon some time to locate the being's physical form, so much so that they wondered if they were invisible as a means of avoidance. However, Eibon eventually made out a black nearly translucent mist, hovering above raging ocean waves. It was a form so unimpressive that, had it not been for the soul, Eibon would have disregarded them as one of the many lesser forms roaming the universe.

Eibon's form solidified into the one they most so commonly used now -though they may disregard it in the future without sparing a thought, like they had done with so many others. To indicate their station, Eibon layered a star-dusted veil on top, reflecting nebulas and etched with fractal decorations created from impossible calculations and realty-bending axioms. Above it floated an orb radiating sharp points of light, its center made up of a singular unblinking eye.

The mist stayed as it, giving no indication they had noticed or cared about Eibon's presence.

Eibon waited. They radiated more light and a reverberating rumbling to attract their attention, just in case. The mist remained unmoving and Eibon was beginning to feel a bit offended.

Deciding to make their presence known one way or another, Eibon entered the other being's soul space. Moments later, a dark tendril made up of soul wavelength, more phantasmal than solid, was jabbed straight into Eibon's eye.

"Ouch!" Eibon let out, more out of surprise than actual pain. "My good eye!"

When Eibon regained their vision, the mist was right up at their face, coiling around them, brushing by but never touching. Cackles of their wavelengths danced around them, bridging the gaps across Eibon's form and the old dread resurfaced.

"You have multiple eyes?" came a rasping sound, whispered but louder than the crashing waves below them.

Right, this was no time to cower; Eibon was no mere fledgling. On the contrary, there was no other being that knew as much about this reality -and any other that may or may not exist. This unusual encounter was just another memory to be made, categorized and later analyzed.

As a modest demonstration of power, the space around Eibon shifted; the crashing waves reformed and moved backwards while phantom forms replayed their last moments, as time slightly unwound -but not enough to cause any permanent damage to the time-space continuum, Eibon was no hooligan. Sunlight gave way to gaping maws of unreality from which a multitude of eyes emerged and any other appendages that could be classified as eyes if one was feeling generous.

The mist around Eibon retracted, though its long winding movements were ones of curiosity not fear. "Ah."

Seconds would have passed if time was moving normally as the mist finished its exploration.

"Looks redundant," came the same blank voice from the mist.

The veil across Eibon stretched thinner.

"And what about you, my good fellow?" Eibon spoke up, trying to establish some baseline of manners. "Your forms looks quite…" Eibon paused, trying to think of a non-offensive description, "undefined," they finally let out, defeated.

"Ah," the mist repeats as it slowly coalesced to a single almost oval cloud with too many sharp edges. "It is hard to conjure one. Takes time and effort."

Eibon's orb tilted slightly to one side. Hard to conjure one? Were they not powerful enough? Even if the being before them mainly resided in the spiritual realm, Great Old Ones were eternal. Had Eibon misjudges them? Perhaps they were in the process of shifting forms?

Ah, there was no point in making uneducated guesses. They needed more information.

"My apologies, but I am not sure about your identity," Eibon diplomatically began, making sure to keep their tone casual; not that the being would likely notice though, considering their first impression. "Would you mind sharing?"

The mist around them coalesced, and Eibon couldn't help but feel as if they should know the being before them. There was something about their elegant but forceful movements, the lack of physical form, the enveloping soul, a sea of yellow with barely noticeable white threads, trailing aimlessly for now…

The puzzle pieces came together and Eibon found himself unable to move. Dread drowned any lingering curiosity, as the identity of the being before them became frightfully clear.

"Order," Eibon let out. "You're Order."

"Yes," the mist replied in that same even tone, its neutrality now ominous instead of disrespectful. "Have you heard of me?"

"Of course I have," Eibon retorted before they can stop themselves.

The Great Old One of Order. The Purveyor of the Madness of Order. The self-appointed overseer of souls.

If Eibon was not careful, they would lose their mind. No, worse than that; their independence. Their mind would remain. Perfect. Unchanging. Operating under someone else's control. Order's control.

"And you are?" the mist replied and Eibon hated that neutrality; they cannot make out any emotion, thoughts, or intention. Just a blank state, ready to devour anything on its path, mindless, directionless, _incurious_-

"Eibon," they replied after a small pause. A stolen name, one of many aliases they carry. Eibon had been a maddened researcher of an extinct race in a now barren planet whose population had disappeared under mysterious circumstances.

"Eibon," Order repeated, as if testing its intonation. "You can call me Death."

"A pleasure to meet you, Death," Eibon responded, almost automatically, as if they've already been taken in by the Order.

Death. Fitting, for that is the only thing their Madness is good for.

"Why are you here?" Eibon asked.

"I do not know," the mist replied. "I recently came to be."

That gave Eibon pause. "Recently?"

"Yes," the most replied, as if that was all that needed to be said.

Eibon's mind reeled, trying to come up with explanations and guesses at to what Order was referring to. A peculiar phenomenon jumped to mind.

Soul fragmentation.

All souls could be fragmented of course, but the vast majority would perish, broken beyond repair. That is not the case for Great Old Ones however. Eibon had not observed any fragmentation first hand -nor do they want to besides an ever-lingering lust for knowledge, as other accounts salvaged from broken minds detail the ordeal to be unnerving at best, most often a result of a devastatingly effective attack. Fragmentation is an ordeal, something to avoid at all costs, yet Order was rumored to utilize it _on purpose_. Eibon did not understand the process behind such a decision themselves, -nor did they want to understand for fear of betraying their essence- but they supposed it was fortunate that Order was so self-destructing.

If the Order before them had recently undergone a fragmentation, that meant they were as vulnerable as anyone of their caliber could be. However, the soul that encircled Eibon, Order's soul, stood complete. There were no fragments, no pieces missing. Madness hummed around the air.

Perhaps they were confused. Perhaps they were recently recovering from a fragmentation. Perhaps…

Eibon should have left. They should have dashed as fast as they can bend space, and not return for a couple of millennia.

Instead, Eibon can't help but ask questions. "Are you looking for something, Order?"

"Death," the mist corrected them before taking another long pause. "I do not know. Perhaps I merely stumbled here. Perhaps something called me here."

"Something?"

"Souls," the mist whispered, and some of its edges loosened and trailed around the area. "There are many here."

Of course they are, Eibon wanted to retort, but held themselves back. This is one of the few planets whose conditions in combination with pure luck, allowed for the flourishing of life.

Perhaps De-Order had been attracted to this living planet like a moth to a flame. Or perhaps…

"…Did you detect a disturbance?" Eibon carefully asked. Prying into souls was dangerous, even for a Great Old One. Some fragmentations had been the result of in-fighting, or more accurately picking a fight with the being before them.

The mist took a long time to answer. Its form began to scatter, reminding Eibon of when they'd first met. "I am not sure. I do not know. Yet."

At that moment, Eibon saw the chance of a lifetime.

Souls were not well studied. Not by Eibon, nor by any other creature they have encountered. They are finicky things, full of potential of secrets, a field open for discovery and experimentation. Any accounts of aforementioned activities have been few and few in between. Those who have peer too closely into souls rarely emerge with their mind intact, even when said minds belonged to beings Eibon hold respect for. Their namesake had likely suffered such a fate.

And yet here they were. With Order-_Death_. Lost. Looking for guidance.

"Then, Death," Eibon began and extended an appendage under their veil, starry and clawed. "How about we join forces? With our combined power, we can detect and combat any… unsavory intrusions into your territory."

The moment stretched seemingly forever. Eibon was acutely aware of the white strands peering from Death's soul, promising a fate worse than their namesake.

A similar appendage, as black as the gap between stars firmly grasped Eibon's and the Purveyor of the Madness of Knowledge had never been happier.


End file.
